


White X Black: The Moonless Night

by ChocolateCarnival



Series: White x Black: Vampire/Hunter AU [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: AU setting, Angst, Blood Play, Canon Facts, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hunter!Ichigo, Lemon Content, Lime Content, M/M, Multiple chapters, Vampire!Shiro, Zanpactō Materialization, Zanpactō Soul Transfer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 02:15:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1922919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateCarnival/pseuds/ChocolateCarnival
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where Vampire Hunters and Vampires are in a constant battle for supremacy, there is only one option in the end. To live or die by the blades of their enemies. Only, an odd deal that exists between the strongest Hunter, Kurosaki Ichigo and the oldest and most powerful Pureblood, Shiro, is about to create a new and unusual relationship that has never been seen before. Yaoi</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Of Equal Strength

**Author's Note:**

> . It is extremely plot heavy and the sexual content will also be immense as you can probably see in the prologue. 
> 
> This is the type of story I have always longed to write, because there is a special surprise in Chapter 1. But that’s a secret! You’ll have to wait until the 2nd or 3rd January to find out when I post it a few days after this. 
> 
> Okay there are some strict warnings for this fic; it is NOT for the faint of heart. It is heavy in angst, dark in nature, high in sexual content and is bound to contain intense M/M lemons and a lot of violence and blood. Also it contains a Vampire Hunter! Ichigo and a Pureblood Vampire! Shiro, where this is a set pairing between the two even when their relationship is considered a total taboo. 
> 
> I’m keeping it fairly modern as you’ll see, but hopefully I won’t be pressed to write such long chapters so that I can update faster. Please remember this is only the prologue, an introduction to the characters and a bit of my setting, chapter one will establish more of the AU world they live in and so one. There is a sort-of-lime in the prologue so please do not read if any of the warnings have put you off.

Dazed chocolate brown eyes were gazing numbly up at a clear midnight sky. A thousand pinpricks of light illuminating a swell of black velvet where the dimmed rays of a pale moon, shared its soft rays of light across the vast plane that was saturated in nothing but sheer darkness. Displaying the entirety of Karakura Town enveloped in a blanket of thick snow, it ushered in the icy cold wind from the depths of that year's exceptionally frosty winter without remorse. The waning moon was casting a haunting silvery light against the unstable form of Kurosaki Ichigo; revealing a tall, lithe frame that was currently kept captive against the wall of an abandoned alleyway next to a private night club. There were two pale palms curled restrictively around each of his wrists; forcing black gloved hands back against a brick wall to box him in from all sides as a sly white clad thigh pressed intimately between his parted legs to take his sagging weight rather courteously for the vile sin that was occurring between the willing him and his demon captor. 

Long, hip-length white locks were spilling sensually over a strong shoulder to tickle his chin and cheek, teasing flushed skin softly as the white haired being continued to drag heady mouthfuls of blood from the vein in his neck. But Ichigo felt no pain and despite the wintery wind that should have overwhelmed him in a shuddering cold, the dazed orange haired Vampire Hunter was aware of none of the sensations his body should be experiencing in that moment of time. A rapturous keen of pure need was tugged dizzyingly from parted petal pink lips, a heady rush of pleasurable warmth flooding through fast heating veins in tandem to every brush of a sly fang against the sensitive skin of his neck as it sent continuous shudders of bliss racing across a frantically beating heart with every rocking thrust a strong thigh created between trembling legs. Black gloved fingertips; wrenched free of their restriction in a display of uncanny strength whilst still being subdued by a vampire's enthralment, were grabbing desperately at long white locks in order to keep himself from falling into unconsciousness as the undeniable sound of contented pleasure spilled silkily from the depths of his captor's throat. 

The Pureblood Vampire was easily taking his fill and then more from his victim with every passing second, leaving a pleasure dazed Ichigo to shudder in utter rapture against the white haired being's powerful body that was curled so protectively and seductively around him. Fuck! It simply wasn't fair, Ichigo whined pitifully in the confused depths of his spinning mind. He always ended up like this when things took a darker turn in their stormy relationship, where the long standing deal between the two of them was only a pretext to this...the sheer pleasure of giving and taking beneath the light of the moon and the utter taboo that it represented to the both of their races. Blood for information. Blood for information...that was all it was supposed to be. But over time it had turned into something else entirely. Something that the orangette looked forward to once every month as a dark flush of red stained pale cheeks in utter shame to his wanton actions now, Ichigo's body rocking uncontrollably into the vampire's tender caress as he searched for the all welcome pinnacle of uncontained carnal instinct deep within his soul. 

Several breathless curses of strain were rolling erotically past parted lips, wiry muscles tensing in anticipation as the orange haired Hunter desperately tried to hold back the overwhelming torrent of pleasure that indicated his coming to completion. It wasn't supposed to be like this, Ichigo scolded himself harshly. He was never supposed to lose control around this powerful being but he simply couldn't hold himself back anymore. It was too much, the pleasure too intense, his heart far too soft against the white haired vampire's ministrations as a litany of pleasured cries soon spiralled wildly into the air around him to taint the atmosphere with an overwhelmingly powerful burst of climbing reiatsu that couldn't be contained anymore. The powerful being near twenty-five times his age, was gifting the semi-long scruffy orange haired Vampire Hunter the overwhelming ecstasy that only such a trained creature could create when stealing the life force from one's very veins without holding back. And Shiro...he never held back because Ichigo was one of the few beings in the world that could withstand his power without the orangette's soul straining under its oppressive weight. 

'Ah! S-Shiro! Shi! P-please stop! I'm going to co―.' Ichigo warned breathlessly; trailing off in the middle of his sentence at the painful hitch in his breath that signalled his fast approaching release. Lust darkened brown eyes were fluttering shut half-mast, the orangette tugging hard on white locks in an attempt to dislodge the slightly taller being from the side of his neck. Black gloved fingertips were digging deliberately painfully against the back of a pale neck several seconds later though; the orange haired Hunter seeking to break their intimate connection before a shuddering gasp of utter flowing ecstasy escaped heaving lungs and a single grinding fang had the orangette bowing his back in pleasure the instant he was forced to release his pent up sexual gratification with an overwhelming cry of blissful rapture. Warm wetness painted the inside of tight black jeans, a stressed keen of shame spilling into the air around him as shock after shock of rushing bliss dimmed Ichigo's vision and dazed chocolate brown eyes clenched shut in utter humiliation to his reaction when a suddenly shifting weight forced him more fully against the back of a cold wall. 

Scruffy orange locks were descending darkly into lust glazed eyes, feathering across flushed cheeks to conceal the deep mortification swimming in their depths before strong arms abruptly wound around Ichigo's waist to keep him from falling to the ground and Shiro continued to take more from him than the orangette had to give that night. Kurosaki Ichigo was panting softly for his faded breath, back arching in a sensual bow to place some distance between them as the familiar weight of his pitch black Zanpactō pressed painfully against his back at the awkward angle his body created to get away. Zangetsu's larger blade, a pitch black sword that was as long as he was tall, possessed an elongated hilt and a small gap that ran in the middle of blade before stopping in its centre, was the constant companion that kept the orange haired Hunter protected with its overwhelming strength and deadly sharp edge. Considering its placing though, secured to a red sash and draped across his back, it would be impossible to reach for it now as Ichigo absently brought surprisingly steady fingertips to the smaller companion blade that was suspended from an array of black belts, silver studs and pitch black twining chains that kept his floor length black and blood red cloak closed around his torso. 

'Fuck! Shiro! Stop it!' Curling elegant gloved fingertips around Zangetsu's smaller counterpart, Ichigo impatiently dug black booted feet into the ground as he drew the deadly blade from its red sheath and used the last of his fading strength to press a deadly sharpened tip against the base of Shiro's spine with admonition. He could feel the tall vampire freeze against him, the deadly hum emanating from the smaller Zangetsu not be mistaken for a weakness because of its less significant size to its twin. Either of Ichigo's blades were deadly to any vampire, so it was no surprise that even such an ancient and powerful being was intimidated by their unsheathed presence. Ichigo was after all the strongest Hunter to have been born in over two centuries. He was not someone to be messed with, but neither was the being taking his blood so pleasurably as Shiro himself was the only Pureblood to have survived the world for more than five centuries without being hunted down for being consumed by a vampire's instinctual insanity. 

What had drawn them together three years ago was power, what bound them together now was power and it was a constant play between the two of them of who possessed more, who would take things further than they should and who would submit to the other first. It was a deadly game that had become consumed with dark affection, a twisted love and insatiable lust that the both of them were utterly addicted to. And it left Ichigo's mind reeling now with the crushing reiatsu that flooded the small alleyway in retaliation to his weapon's drawn presence. His own power was rising to match the white haired Pureblood's step for step, the orangette shivering as an irate growl caressed his ear and sharpened fangs dug painfully into his neck for daring to interrupt Shiro's current meal. But at least Shiro seemed to have stopped taking his blood, black nailed fingertips reaching behind him to curl bare handed around a deadly black blade without the sharpness cutting into flawless porcelain skin or the pitch black reiatsu, shooting across his arm in deadly warning, affecting his powerfully flowing reiatsu. 

'Tch...You’re as shy as ever, Ichigo.' A silky baritone purred playfully against the shell of a flushed ear; sated golden eyes set upon a sea of black sclera, flashing in amusement as a black nailed thumb swiped across pale lips to gather the last trickle of blood to lap up with a sly blue tongue. 'You get so unnecessarily bashful when I make you lose control; just like a little virgin that's never tasted the pleasure of a man...let alone act like the most powerful Hunter in existence at only twenty-three years of age.' Ichigo instantly drew in a sharp breath of surprise, a tremor of fury igniting hotly through his veins as he saw an absolute, bloody deep red when the flush settled across his nose, coloured darker and he abruptly pressed the tip of Zangetsu's smaller blade below a pale chin in warning. Lifting Shiro's head forcibly as he shakily leant back against the wall for support when the world spun in dizzying circles around him, Ichigo watched confusedly as black nailed fingertips curled nonchalantly around the end of his blade. Sparks of black reiatsu were dancing wildly across Shiro's fingertips, a deadly teasing grin pulling alarmingly at pale lips as the white haired being slowly and deliberately caressed the edge of the sharp blade with a seductive play of fingertips. 

'It's so endearing, little Ichigo, that it makes me want to devour you and mark you as mine for eternity.' 

'Shit! Go to hell, Shiro!' Ichigo cursed vehemently, a deadly glare entering chocolate brown eyes as a gloved palm came upwards to lie across the leaking wounds on the side of neck to stem the sickening slide of blood against his sensitive flesh. 'Damn it, Shiro! You took far too much tonight...I can barely stand! Don't you ever feed from others anymore?!' Ichigo howled in growing rage, his entire being falling listlessly against the wall as the white haired Pureblood suddenly pushed away the blade resting against his neck and he forced Ichigo's fingertips from the side of his neck in reprimand. After several careful swipes of a blue tongue, Shiro closed the weeping wounds in order to calm the orangette's displeasure and to replace it with a more coherent flood of emotions instead. The orangette was still trembling against the flood of lingering sensations however, leaning his temple against cool bricks as puffs of white air coloured the night air around him with every exhale that spilled past parted lips in a heady rush. A bold silvery ring was peeking out at the world in the light of the moon as he ran a slick pink tongue across his lips to wet their sudden dryness, the flicker of a street lamp igniting the splay of four black loop earrings that were settled in his right ear and a single black stud that was settled in the lobe of his opposite ear.

All creating an attractive display that the long white haired being struggled to keep his hands off of the more that time passed, so much so that Shiro forced himself to place some distance between the two of them in order to collect himself a bit more. 

'No,' Shiro eventually said with a nonchalant shrug, answering the little Hunter's rhetorical question just to rile up the fiery orangette more than he already had. 'Why would I when I have your blood to look forward to every month...I-chi-go.' Dragging out every syllable of that beautiful name in a dark, sensual purr; the white haired Shiro instantly succeeded in capturing Ichigo's full attention as a soft light of affectionate emotion crept into vibrant chocolate brown eyes and the Hunter's astonished gaze locked irrevocably upon his moving form. Ignited by the light of the waning moon now, Shiro became an exceptionally beautiful creature of the night. Long hip length locks; coloured as pure white as the falling snow, were cascading evocatively down his back to brush against his hips in swaying movements with every step that he took closer to Ichigo. A pure white trench coat was settled across his tall lithe frame, tumbling to his knees as long nailed fingertips, coloured a deadly black, hooked lazily in white belt loops. Neat white shoes, to match his expensive silk pants, made a steady tapping rhythm across the ground when Shiro drew impossibly close with a small frown of concern tugging at white brows. 

'Ichigo? Are you alright?' A silky baritone asked concernedly, forcing chocolate brown eyes to blink owlishly as pale skin shimmered softly in the light of the moon and created a provocative display of ethereal colour. Ichigo was losing it, he knew. He could slowly feel himself being tempted to pull away from the wall to get much closer to Shiro than before, dark brown eyes hazing over with another emotion that was more difficult to discern but burned just as brightly as his affection had earlier as Ichigo suddenly found himself sprawling onto the snow covered ground at the loss of his balance instead. A small 'oof' resounded from his lips, a deep scowl of irritation tugging at tangerine brows as black gloved fingertips clenched in soft snow and his body once more became aware of the icy cold winter wind that was blowing hauntingly across his trembling form from the depths of the night. Ichigo was breathing heavily, the world swimming around him as the sudden cold of his body reminded him of the wetness that was staining the front of his black jeans. 

'Agh! F-fuck! I-I did it again...' Ichigo noted mournfully, as if admitting it out loud was his greatest shame and dulled brown eyes gazed dejectedly at the spread of a dark black cloak that was spreading sensually around his form in several evocative folds now. There were ragged tears in the material, displaying a bloody red colour that was on the inside of the floor length garment and the chains and stylish belts around his waist tinkled with his uncertain movement when Shiro suddenly knelt beside him in concern. A now warmed palm was cupping his cheek gently, soft lips pressing against a smooth forehead tenderly as Ichigo was left shivering under the pleasurable press of the older being's much more comforting reiatsu that was curling so protectively around his form. A small chuckle was spiralling in the air around them mere seconds before gentle fingertips carded soothingly through messy orange locks and the twenty-three-year old Hunter slowly but surely came down from his post orgasmic bliss and the sheer ecstasy that Shiro's bite had brought forth within him. Ichigo was leaning against a strong chest now without care, scruffy orange locks tickling his cheeks softly as he pressed his forehead against a warm neck and his left hand easily re-sheathed the smaller black Zanpactō now that his power was no longer needed. 

'Hush my little Hunter King,' Shiro cooed softly in comfort. 'I consider it an honour that I can make you come so undone...especially for one that fights my enthralment every step of the way. There's no shame in taking the pleasure I gift you, little one. It's only fair that I repay you in kind for that delicious blood of yours. Sometimes my information is not nearly enough to compensate for the rapturous taste that only your can give me. But that is probably not something you wish to hear, Ichi... ‘The older being noted with a chuckle of amusement when the flickering of a red flush coloured beautifully flushed cheeks once more. 'How about we get out of this cold? There's something I want to ask you, Ichigo. But this is neither the place or the time. You can come get cleaned up in my apartment. I won't bite; well...not again...I have a bit more self-control than that.' Shiro was teasing now and Ichigo was left scowling deeply at those words, fairly hesitant about stepping foot in the older being's lair but it was quickly pushed aside with the promise of a warm shower and clean clothes just before the midnight hour would strike and the coming calls of his 'job' would overwhelm him again. 

To keep the town that he loved safe from the fallen of Shiro's kin and the 'Hollow' vampires that had completely lost their minds to devour the innocents as they saw fit, was not always so easy when Karakura was a hot spot for powerful vampires that were inexplicably drawn here for some reason...


	2. Chapter 1: The Dimming Horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! It’s finally done! This went a lot quicker than I expected it too because I found a lot of inspiration for it. If this chapter confuses you, it will probably be explained in the next chapter. But I said there was going to be a big surprise in this chapter, and there is a very BIG surprise. I hope you have your tissues ready my honeys; this one’s going to make you cry. Well, I cried whilst writing this. It is very emotional, that I can promise you. 
> 
> This chapter is busy with a lot of the back story but I’m sure you will enjoy. The lemons will come later, but for now, I am building up my plot. 
> 
> There are some warnings in this chapter, I’m taking a lot of liberties with the Bleach plot; there is violence, a lot of angst and back story. Remember this story is heavily AU, so I am inclined to state that as a warning as well. The action and things will be saved for the next chapter.
> 
> Story written to: Holding Your Flame – Epic Pop (2nd Album) [Not sure of the artists that created it but it is awesome]
> 
> Please enjoy my honeys; I’ll see you at the end of the chapter.

'The time has come, Aruji (1*)...that child's fangs are going to tear him apart from the inside out if he doesn't awaken soon...' Sated eyes the colour of the sun's shimmering rays, set upon a sea of black sclera, fluttered open sorrowfully at the firm baritone that was ringing throughout the depths of his mind in reprimand before beautiful golden orbs gazed forlornly over the vast spread that Karakura Town's vibrant artificial night lights created below him now. Soft flakes of white snow was drifting lazily from the partially clouded sky, falling in an iridescent blanket across a complex concrete labyrinth as a large panoramic window was the only thing that separated Shiro's tall white clad frame from the icy cold that was present outside. The pale palm of his left hand, with lengthened pitch black nails scratching absently against cold glass, was laid flat against the near invisible barrier in deep thought as he discretely breathed in the haunting aroma that drifted so deliciously throughout the recesses of his apartment from the presence of his guest. 

An overwhelming oppressive reiatsu, perfectly controlled and gentle in its flow now, cast an invisible sensory net across the vast town in search of any indication that a fallen Hollow had come walking unknowingly into his rightful territory again. Trying desperately to ignore the vague reflection, outlined with hip length white locks fluttering around his form sensually as he shifted restlessly on his feet now, present in the window's surface. Shiro allowed a soft sigh of strain to spill past pale lips, fingertips clenching into a fist as he tiredly leaned his forehead against the cool glass to collect the unsettled thoughts rushing dizzyingly through his mind. In the corner of his eye, resting within the traditional mahogany sword rack next to a large king-sized canopy bed draped in pure black silk sheets and a warm eiderdown duvet; were two unusually large black Hunter blades concealed in their sheaths. The two faithful twin Zanpactō that were away from their Master's side at that moment in time, displayed a remarkable feat for a weary Vampire Hunter that would never drop his guard around any powerful vampire. Let alone trust their treasured presence to another being's hands that could use them against him. 

But Shiro wasn't just any vampire to Kurosaki Ichigo. Shiro was a taboo friend, sometimes the ultimate pleasure giver, an unseen protector and a valuable source of information on the inside of their world that was bathed in nothing but darkness. Deep down however, the older being yearned for something that was much more substantial, deeper emotionally and would eternally bind them together so that he would no longer have to face the eternal night on his own. The white haired Pureblood had been searching for a mate to share his soul with for a very long time now, had stubbornly kept himself from falling in love for five hundred years until he had found his equal in strength so that his darker nature could be kept balanced and that he didn't have to fall into the instinctual insanity that plagued every vampire throughout their existence. And in little Ichigo, Shiro had found more than a match to his soul. Shiro had found an enigma in their dark world; a ray of light that was too dizzying to look into but irrevocably, wherever Ichigo touched, every word he spoke and every glimpse of the eternal compassion present in those vibrant chocolate brown orbs, would leave a burning trail of fire that only such a pure soul could create.

And that was what Shiro wanted nothing more than to selfishly possess all for himself. 

Ichigo was after all the one that had unknowingly saved the older being from descending into utter madness fourteen years ago. Where in the depths of a rainy summery night; Shiro had caught sight of the orange haired nine-year-old walking hand in hand with his mother beside Karakura's flowing river. She had been the first to attract his weary attention, a gentle being that had possessed one of the most astounding forces of Hunter reiatsu he had ever sensed and her son, clinging so innocently to her skirts and smiling so brightly in happiness under her affection, had possessed an aura that was on an entirely different level than hers. A ragging, overwhelming torrent of power that Shiro was very familiar with, something that he bowed to instinctively as all Purebloods, Nobles and Turned Vampires were inclined to do. Because that child, so bright, so innocent and so small for this dark world, had possessed the undeniable scent in his blood that only the Reiou was known for. A scent that Shiro recognized intimately because he had been one of the five Royal Guards that had protected the Reiōkyū, Seireitei and the worlds beyond it for over three hundred years until it had all crumbled to dust at the hands of a traitorous Gotei-13 Captain thirty years ago. 

Aizen Sousuke; an ambitious Turned Vampire that had somehow harnessed the power of controlling Arrancar and Hollows had taken over the Pureblood throne for himself, even plunged the Three Worlds into utter chaos and fear after that. The corner stone of vampire society, the Reiou and his five Royal Guards, had vanished into thin air...scattered to the four corners of the wind until their master's reiatsu would awaken once more. Hueco Mundo had opened a permanent rift into the Human World where alarming amounts of the vampire race's fallen kin 'Hollows' and those close to it 'Arrancar' (beings who had lost their reason and hearts to blood lust), spilled over into the human world to rule over the nights in terror. And the Quincy, the race that Ichigo's mother had belonged to and the source of all Hunter power, had been forced to awaken their Quincy King Juha Bach twenty four years ago when the influx of darkness could no longer be contained and Aizen had slaughtered every last one of the Echt (2*) Quincies in an attempt to establish his rule as 'god'. 

On the 17th of June, exactly fourteen years ago and the night where Shiro had first glimpsed the young mother and her unusually powerful child, was also the most sorrowful event in little Ichigo's life when his beautiful and brave Kaa-san, protecting her son till the very end, had been killed right before the orangette's eyes. It had been a heartbreaking scene to witness, the heavens weeping at their sorrow when Shiro, caught and bound with several high level kido, had been unable to do anything to help them. He had only snapped back into his senses after the effects of that man's Zanpactō had worn off, he had been severely injured and the first beginnings of a Hollow mask had started to consume his heart in the light of his growing despair. He had been desperately afraid to face the darkness of his soul that night, knowing that he had started his ascent into madness several weeks before when he had failed to do his duty as a Royal Guard and he could not protect that most important child's untainted innocence. But it had been the scent of Ichigo's blood, the sorrowful taint in his soul and his despairing cries that had eventually gifted Shiro his fading sanity in order to console the little one from his terror and pain. 

Even when Ichigo gave no indication that he remembered Shiro from that night; the older being had vowed that he would always protect the little one from harm until his dying breath. And Shiro had made sure that his promise was never broken. He had been looking after Ichigo since then, staying hidden in the shadows of the night when he had been taken in by the Ishida family, had protected Ichigo when he had gone through his Holy Training and the orangette had unknowingly awoken a Zanpactō instead of a Bow at the mere age of fifteen and the older being had been forced to mercilessly slaughter all of Aizen's messengers, traitors and spies that wished to report the 'Hunter's' unusually overpowering scent and growing strength that could become a true danger to their false king's godly rule. Three years ago however, when Shiro had been forced to reveal his presence one night during a vicious attack of a high level Espada; had marked the beginning of their stormy, tumultuous and very unusual relationship. 

The young Vampire Hunter who had given him a new purpose in life, had resettled his sanity and lived within his heart since he had first seen him had grudgingly accepted the older being's presence as a new source of information and a reliable friend when he needed one. And since Shiro was neither a Hollow nor an Arrancar, the orangette had built up a dark and twisted relationship between the two of them. It was only natural that the orangette was curious as to his presence as Shiro was the first sane vampire Ichigo had ever seen and also the first Pureblood he had ever encountered. But Shiro was sure that Ichigo only ever allowed them to stay so closely bound because deep inside the orangette's soul, the sleeping part of his own Pureblood inheritance was reaching out to the older being's power in order to stabilize its constant fluctuations that only seemed to grow more powerful with every passing day. 

The older being didn't mind that though; he was eternally grateful that he had managed to live within the light of Ichigo's presence these three years and so close to the being that had stolen his heart when he had just been a helpless little child. It had been pure luck that Aizen had never known the scent of the Reiou and had mistakenly cast away Ichigo as a weak 'human' because Ichigo's power had been very indiscernible as a child. Even today still, it was fairly unstable, but over the last month the older being had began to detect the changes in Ichigo's reiatsu that proved that what Shiro had scented all those years ago was not a lie. Before him now, stood the living and last breathing heir to the Reiou and the rightful King to the Pureblood's eternal throne.

Shiba Isshin's only son, Ichigo. 

'Aruji, you cannot ignore it forever. He will die if he doesn't realize what his father is or where his true source of power stems from.' 

'I know.' Shiro noted irritably, golden eyes displaying an unusual amount of mournful emotion for his usual teasing and predatory grin as his right hand, curled loosely around an elegant white daitō, searched for his waning emotional strength when he knew what was to come that night. The beautiful white Zanpactō, possessing an impressive blade that reached up to a hundred and seventy centimetres in length alone, was as pure white as the snow. Its hilt just as colourless, where not a single taint was to be found upon the long tassels that were attached to the daitō's pommel or the silk string that was wound around the sheath just below the four pronged pitch black tsuba (3*); the only bit of contrasting colour present upon its form. The comforting brush of his soul companion's calming reiatsu though, flowed soothing through Shiro's unsettled soul now as it sought to still its master's upset the moment that the long white haired being stepped away from the window and made his way to a large soft couch that was placed in front of a fire that was burning brightly in the hearth. 

'Aruji, please...calm your heart. This is not like you...' Falling exhaustedly into a soft splay of puffed up white cushions and an array of black, white and silver pillows that accentuated the modern and expensive style of his large apartment; Shiro settled the humming daitō across his lap as he curled his palm across the hilt and tilted his head to the side to follow the sound of a running shower in the distance. Merely forcing himself to listen to every sound his sensitive hearing could pick, Shiro smiled indulgently at the soft sound a beautiful humming tenor created as sorrowful golden eyes fluttered shut at the anxiety that was building painfully across his heart. Shiro really did not want to do this. 'Do not hesitate, Master. We have been sensing his presence approaching this location for three days now; it will only take another three for Aizen to show up here. Our mistake in not finishing off that Arrancar a few nights ago has shown itself and you know that he has sensed the Denka's growing strength for a while now. We are going to lose him if...' 

'Please, Mugetsu, I know. This is hard enough as it is! Either way I'll still be slicing my soul and power in half won't I? And you, my most beloved companion...you will no longer be by my side even when you will gain a new master to protect. So whether he wants this willingly or I have to do it by force, I know that it has to be done. I'd rather be hated by him for an eternity than to lose him because I was too selfish to not give him the power that he was born with. I was a fool to fall in love with this one, Mugetsu. He's too bright for me, his soul far too pure. My growing darkness will consume him whole if it is ever unleashed like I know it will be in the next few days. For this, you do not have to console me because it was my own fault. The mere prospect of sending Ichigo after the man that killed his mother with only his own unstable power is suicidal enough and too frightening to even comprehend. I know that it is time that his true blade awakens even at the cost of my own.' 

'I understand, Aruji.' The rumbling baritone noted with its own lilt of sadness before a calming flood of supportive reiatsu cured around Shiro's fingertips for several longs moments in consolation. 'Please be careful after the transfer, Shiro. I will no longer be beside you and I won't be able to protect you anymore. But through him, I will eternally carry your will and soul. All I ask in return is that you don't do anything stupid. The entire supernatural world does not lie only upon your shoulders.' A rich bubble of amused laughter echoed throughout the recesses of a large apartment, a sly blue tongue running lazily across sharp fangs as Shiro pressed his forehead against the sheathed blade that was resting its tip against the floor to collect himself again. Perhaps just this once he'd listen to his wise companion, but knowing himself...that was probably not going to happen despite Mugetsu speaking only the truth. One could never hide from your own soul after all, especially the more rational part of him that created the sole makeup of Mugetsu's personality. 

'I'm not making any promises.' Shiro noted slyly, his senses once more overwhelmed with the overpowering sweet scent that always clung so hauntingly to Ichigo's form and the sudden lack of sound from the shower shutting off. The white haired being shivered unexpectedly, his entire attention once more centring around the powerful presence of his guest that night. The pleasant humming that had been staining his apartment for a while now, trailed off into the stilled heartbeat that Shiro could hear distinctly with his sensitive ears. And it was a much better alternative to when Ichigo was worked up around him, because the instinctual call of the Hunter's unbelievably sweet scent and such a deliciously fluttering heartbeat was far too much for Shiro to control himself from devouring completely. At the mere reminder of the sensation he had felt when his fangs had slid through the tender flesh of that delectably tanned neck, the taste of that rich blood...it was utterly addicting and dangerous to be thinking about because Shiro knew that he could never get enough. 

Everytime he needed more to sate his hunger, more to burn Ichigo into his very soul and he couldn't keep back the soft groan of delight at the mere thought of it. Golden eyes were watching intently as billows of steam flowed from an open bathroom door now, spilling humidly into his private suite as it took several long torturous minutes for the older being to gather himself into some semblance of better control. The bathroom door had just opened to reveal a tall lithe frame, clad as always in tight black jeans that were far too tempting on Ichigo, bare feet instead of those thigh length black boots, a tight long-sleeved black shirt that moulded to strong shoulders and a perfectly sculpted abdomen that was just visible beneath a loosened black cloak that fell perfectly from straight shoulders to the floor. Flaring out around thin hips, the cloak became an evocative structure of material that was like a train of rich black fabric concealing a velvet red lining on the inside as it tumbled in sensual folds at the pull of gravity. 

The array of black belts, silver studs and twining black chains were also set in place once more, keeping that cloak secure as astounded chocolate brown eyes gazed at Shiro with a soft light of affection for several long moments before a large yawn tugged at petal pink lips. Displaying a tempting silver tongue ring that Shiro wanted to feel inside his mouth just so that he could drag the orangette into new heights of overwhelming pleasure, chased a visible shudder down his spine before the white haired Pureblood smirked teasingly the instant that a deep frown tugged at those tangerine brows at the obvious leering gaze that was running appreciatively across Ichigo's form over and over again. Scruffy orange bangs, that fell into those eyes to partially conceal them, were doing very little to hide the subtle red that was colouring pale cheeks and those long tanned fingers that were curling into frustrated fists. 

'W-what? What are you looking at?!' Ichigo yelled with rising embarrassment, causing Shiro's smirk to widen before the older being reached his hand outwards to beckon the orangette towards him. Ichigo was absolutely beautiful, one of the most stunning creatures Shiro had ever encountered and with a soul that was perfectly balanced between Hunter and Vampire; he was something that had never been seen before. He was the perfect embodiment of what the Pureblood King should be. That was why this ethereal being was such an enigma to the white haired Vampire now; Ichigo was both a pure contradiction and a ray of hope. A Pureblood with the ability to walk beneath the sun and a Hunter with the senses and reflexes of a Pureblood. It was utterly heartbreaking that he was so young, and already Shiro needed to thrust Ichigo into the dark struggle that had been taking place in their world for over thirty years now. 

His beautiful Ichigo should never have to taint his hands with the follies of their broken past...

'Come sit, little Hunter King. And bring that towel with you, Baka! Your hair is completely wet! What are you? A little kid? Did you never learn to dry it off properly?!' 

~~~~

'Eh?! What the hell? I never knew you had such maternal instincts, Shiro! It's not like I'll die from this, you know. It's just a little water...' Ichigo whined irritably, still not quite sure how he had ended up sitting cross legged on a plush carpet, his shoulders pressing against the edge of a soft couch as a fluffy black towel ruffled messy orange locks vigorously to wring out the water clinging stubbornly to vibrant strands. Gentle black nailed fingertips were carding through messy strands soothingly several seconds later, seeking to settle the scruffy orange locks back into their ragged place. But when the older being was still not satisfied that it was dry enough, he brought back the rubbing towel again much to the young Hunter's growing ire. Even through the heavy frown of irritation furrowing tangerine brows; Ichigo eagerly leant into Shiro's touch as if it was the only thing in the world that mattered to him in that moment. Where Ichigo inexplicably accepted the comforting touch Shiro's calming presence provoked within his soul. 

'Hn...? What did ya say, Ichi? I don't think that I heard you correctly, little King. I possess maternal instincts? Are ya talkin' in yer sleep? I don't want to hear complaints from a little human. You don't have immunity to disease and sickness like vampires do, Ichigo, so you can get sick and I don't want to be the cause of it. You really need to look after yourself more. I think that you tend to forget that, especially with the way that you fight. You are careless little one, very careless.' Ichigo, who was just about to spit out a lingering retort, quieted quickly when a sharp tug to his hair forced the grumbling orangette to tip his head back in order to observe Shiro's truly concerned features gazing down at him with a hint of true sadness. There was a heavy turmoil present within fathomless golden eyes, an unusually sombre frown tugging at white brows as the long white haired Pureblood sighed softly so that a rush of cool air raced across the top of Ichigo's head uncertainly. 

Leaving the orange haired Hunter to feel his own frown deepening in concern; Ichigo quickly came to realize that it was Shiro's sharp gaze that had stilled his reply and not the reprimanding tug on his hair. Sheer concern was flashing through the depths of a rising heartbeat quickly, reminding the twenty-three-year-old of the sight that had greeted him when he had walked out of the bathroom a few minutes ago. Ichigo had never seen Shiro like this, never known that a vampire could possess such a vast array of pained emotions in a single gaze as a small rueful smile tugged at pale lips before guiding hands forced his head to face forward again. Gentle fingertips were ruffling through orange locks soothingly, a fluffy towel eventually thrown aside as a deep baritone hummed a soft tone for several long minutes in contemplation. Chocolate brown eyes were falling shut in contentment at the soft sound without the orangette really understanding why though, Ichigo relaxing back against the consoling touches mere seconds before he was enveloped in an evocative splay of long white locks tumbling around him like a warm curtain of snow. 

'Shi? What is it? What are you doing?' Ichigo asked tiredly; brown eyes snapping open in surprise as warm lips pressed against the top of his head and hip length white locks fluttered sensually around his sitting form. Shuddering unexpectedly beneath the tickling and affectionate touch, Ichigo dragged in a sharp gasp the moment that a hauntingly strong presence draped sensually across his back and a warm chin came to rest against his shoulder tenderly. Strong arms were winding around Ichigo's waist restrictively, pulling the orangette more firmly against a warm chest as a soft cry of sheer indignation spilled past petal pink lips several seconds later. Ichigo was instinctively seeking to break himself out of the embrace, feeling embarrassed at their position and the mere reminder of why he had been invited up here in the first place. But through his desperate struggles, Ichigo could detect a change in the air; charging it with an unknown emotion that was indiscernible but heavy with the Pureblood's unsettled reiatsu all the same. 

'Shiro? What's wrong?' 

'Hush, Ichigo, and listen to what I say now. Always face forward, my little King. Never look back, do not hesitate and never forget the strength that always drives you forward. Your soul carries something very precious in our world, something that needs to be protected at all costs. So please, look after yourself a little more.' Thoroughly confused by the older being's sorrow tainted words and unusual actions, Ichigo rested his palm against the arms wound around his waist as he sought to comfort the clear upset in the Pureblood's rising reiatsu. Usually he would be fighting the white haired vampire tooth and nail to get out of a restrictive grip like this, but something was holding Ichigo back that night. Perhaps he really did not like the sorrow dancing in those eyes, or the deeply pained reiatsu that was pressing so intimately against his own. But there was definately something unsaid between them, something that Ichigo wasn't so sure he wanted to hear right now. It was distressing enough see Shiro like this and Ichigo wasn't quite sure what to do next to ease the older being's pain.

'Ah, I know, Shiro. But the same goes for you, it's not like you to be so sombre, Shi. Did something happen? Or is this just new way to tease the hell out of me?' Ichigo asked with a frown of confusion; not quite sure what to make of those words. But when Ichigo received no chuckle or teeth tugging on the shell of his ear like Shiro's teases usually did, chocolate brown eyes scanned the large studio apartment spread out before him absently. It was highly lavish, beautifully kept but there was no doubt that it was stained with a loneliness that couldn't be shaken, a loneliness reflected in Shiro's soul as the orangette made sure that his gaze never strayed far from the side of that large bed where his two Zanpactō were kept should he need them. He was a bit surprised however, when he heard the distinctive sound of shifting metal and a katana being sheathed before a beautiful white daitō was laid next to their twined forms. Ichigo instantly did a double take at the deadly blade's closeness, squirming in the older being's lap to get away from its overwhelmingly powerful presence as sudden warning bells started ringing deafeningly throughout his mind. 

'Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, Ichigo.' Shiro said apologetically; warm fingertips coming upwards to card through messy orange locks to calm the orangette until the white haired Pureblood could finally feel Ichigo start to relax against him. 'I won't harm you, little Hunter King. I was just talking to him earlier so he hasn't had time to dematerialize yet. This is probably the first time you've ever seen him.' Shiro noted curiously, reaching for Ichigo's right hand that was twisting the fabric of a black cloak in sheer distress before the Pureblood carefully and tenderly placed the long blade in Ichigo's lap and curled those uncertain fingertips around the white sheath. Ichigo was both instantly alert but oddly soothed by the older sword's presence that was only growing more pronounced and stronger throughout the large apartment in response to Ichigo's unsettled reiatsu. 'He's quite different from an Arrancar's resurrecciόn blade. This is the first time that you've seen a true Zanpactō besides your Zangetsu isn't it, Ichigo?' Shiro asked slyly, not at all fazed by the trembling Hunter in his arms as the orangette seemed completely captivated by the blade but very weary of its presence all the same. 

'I-I shouldn't touch...h-he's your―.'

'No it's alright; he'd have let you know if he was displeased with your presence.' Shiro reassured tenderly, leaning forward intimately so that his forehead was pressed against the nape of Ichigo's neck and he could subtly scent the beautiful aroma that was curling so pleasantly around his beloved's form. Coupled with the sweet scent of his shampoo, soap and the subtle dampness that the warm water from the shower had left behind...Shiro was finding it very difficult to control himself from claiming Ichigo as his mate right at that moment. Especially with him sitting so close, shifting restlessly in his lap every now and then and unconsciously leaning into the older being's lingering affection without even knowing it. It was all igniting a yearning need within the older being to possess Ichigo from the very beginning, causing him to curl his arms more restrictively around a thin waist as the orangette squirmed uncomfortably in his embrace. Ichigo was far too distracted to notice this though, his sole attention captured by Mugetsu's presence as curious tanned fingertips, no longer hidden by the black gloves of his unique Hunter uniform, traced the beautiful white hilt and dancing tassels curiously. 

'Let me know?' Ichigo asked absently, shuddering under the caress of the blade's power as it curled around his fingertips in a deep red reiatsu that was only growing darker and more powerful the instant that Ichigo's own pitch black reiatsu shot out of his fingertips in response. Creating an attractive display that was both black and bloody red, Ichigo sighed softly as he completely missed the appreciative hum behind him or the sly blue tongue that traced against the side of his neck at the exact place where those fangs had sunk through his neck not too long ago. At the deeply pleasurably shudder it shot through his veins however, Ichigo could feel himself freezing in fear of what was to come and the consequences of his dropped guard but Shiro luckily pulled away several seconds later and merely rested his forehead against Ichigo's shoulder as several warm breaths puffed humidly across the Hunter's cheek. 

'Sorry, you're scent is far too tempting tonight. Yes, Mugetsu's reiatsu would have made you completely numb and unable to move if he did not like your touch. He is a very strange Zanpactō: temperamental, shy, extremely possessive and powerful. But he's also very gentle; a good friend when one faces the eternity of the night with only one master to wield him properly. Mugetsu will serve you well in the future, little one and―' Ichigo froze at those words abruptly, the hand curled around one of Shiro's arms soothingly, pulling away to grasp the wrist of the hand that was trailing a gentle black nail against a pale cheek playfully as Ichigo breathed shakily for his fading breaths. Those words, spoken so affectionately and sorrowfully at the same time, had opened up a crack in his soul as Ichigo felt his world slowly coming to a stop around him. Something wasn't right, tonight Ichigo had been sensing something off in Shiro and within himself as well...and those words built a new wave of unknown anxiety through his soul. 

'W-wait, serve me? What the fuck are you talking about, Shiro? There's something you are not telling me and it's pissing me off! Your Zanpactō, your sorrow, a part of your 'soul' serving me...it's―.' 

'Not impossible.' Shiro said firmly, the tone of his voice becoming startling serious as he sat up a little straighter and curled his hand across Ichigo's that was still clutched around Mugetsu's blade. 'Remember when I said there was something very important that I had to ask you, Ichigo?' Shiro asked softly; leaving Ichigo to nod dazedly in remembrance as the lazy fingertips of his free hand traced the white sheath in thought. 'I want to turn you, Ichigo. I know that it is very sudden and that you may never have thought of spending your life as vampire but I really can't hold this off any longer. I have fallen hopelessly in love with you, my Hunter King. I can no longer face the eternity without you. It's selfish of me, little one, I know, but I need to know your answer before this tears me apart. I―.' Ichigo froze abruptly, his mind spinning in dizzying circles as his entire existence turned itself on its side and Ichigo found his breath hitching frightfully in his chest. He could feel his heart bursting in his chest, sheer panic encasing his form as the words slowly but surely began to register within his mind. Turn? To turn him? Ichigo didn't―.

'WHAT?! NO! No, Shiro! I can't live like that! I...' Ichigo was forced to trail abruptly as warm lips pressed intimately against the nape of his neck, shooting a haze of enthralment across his skin in a deep shudder as two warm fingertips slipped past his lips and inside his mouth to silence the rush of his words. Ichigo could feel his entire being thrumming with panicked power and stiffening tension when he urged himself to move away but his body simply refused to listen to his panicked instincts anymore. Ichigo was reeling on the inside; his heart breaking into pieces the instant that he sensed sorrow and pain filling the reiatsu curled around him so protectively as it flowed wildly into the room in an overwhelming rush. Several seconds later though, it was reeled back harshly. Leaving the entire apartment startlingly empty of all emotions before a soft kiss peppered the top of his head and warm fingertips pressed soothingly against his very heart in consolation. 

The overwhelming rush of reiatsu the touch pushed into his veins forcefully had Ichigo's mind fogging up with confusion and an artificial bliss before he suddenly found himself laid out on the floor, his head falling back against the soft carpet as strong thighs straddled his hips and a warm forehead pressed against his own just to increase the rush of power that was flooding ceaselessly through his struggling soul. There was such a heartbreaking expression crossing those usually stoic features as Shiro gazed down at him now, hip length white locks spilling across their forms intimately as Ichigo felt tears of frustration gathering in the corner of his eyes when he knew he was the cause it. He really did not like seeing Shiro like this, it was twisting painfully against his soul as a whine of distress spilled past his lips and he weakly arched his back to try and dislodge the heavy weight. He needed to get to Zangetsu, Ichigo's heart squeezing achingly when he realized what he had to do to save himself―. 

'I understand little one, and I'm sorry that such a question caused you unneeded distress.' Shiro whispered tonelessly; a pale thumb coming up to wipe away at a crystalline tear that was clinging to long curling black lashes in hopes of soothing the sorrow and panic he could see swimming within chocolate brown eyes. 'I just wanted to hear your answer for myself. Thank you, Ichigo, for spending these last three years beside me. I love you and I apologize for what I am about to do. But there are still things that you don't understand about yourself that will kill you if it is not awakened. I had hoped to turn you, Ichi, because it would have been less painful for me and you both. But I'm going to have to do it the hard way. Sorry, but I'm going to seal you from moving now.' Ichigo parted his mouth in distress, his entire world breaking around him as his arms were pinned by a powerful black kido that dug painfully into his skin and Ichigo's mind became instantly distanced from his body in an oddly detached sensation. 

He watched dazedly through a haze of fog as Shiro reached for his pure white Zanpactō. Drawing the long sword in one swift movement, the blade glinted ominously in the light of the flickering fire before a pale palm dragged deliberately deep across the surface of the blade. Creating a flow of dark, rich blood across its white surface, Ichigo blinked confusedly as it was soaked blood red in a sweet smelling liquid that Ichigo had never realized didn't smell like copper to him anymore. It was utterly addicting, filling his senses with an unnamed yearning that lodged a sob of need his throat and Ichigo felt his limbs trembling with the force he tried to dislodge the glowing kido from around his wrists to get closer. He needed to move, to burn that scent into his skin as Ichigo watched alarmed as sorrowful golden eyes closed for several seconds before a dark reiatsu flooded deeply and powerfully throughout the large bedroom suite without holding an ounce of it back. 

'S-Shiro p-please, what are you doing!' Ichigo gasped brokenly, finding a little of his voice and fading strength before his soul shattered the instant an overwhelming powerful reiatsu flooded across the entirety of Karakura Town and a small whispered word had the room blacked out with a dark red reiatsu so that Ichigo could no longer see. A ragging howl was suddenly pulled from between his lips; a sharp blade thrust straight through his heart as Ichigo's entire being trembled at the force of the power it broke across his skin. The orangette was sobbing softly, feeling his heart expanding in his chest with the overwhelming intense sensation ripping straight through him at an unimaginable strength. Shiro was breaking him down, killing him as Ichigo cried softly in fear. Several seconds later though, chocolate brown eyes widened in utter confusion when there was no more darkness blackening his vision...just a warm white room spread out before him, someone straddling his waist intimately as a pure white sword was run through his heart. 

Ichigo could feel its biting cold touch through his flesh, coming out of his back and sinking into the floor as his blood began to drain from him...but he was not afraid, strangely. His fingers, once more able to move and no longer bound, curled curiously around the bloodied blade as it trembled in Shiro's hands with emotional strain. It was as if everything was coming from a vast distance, struggling to reach him properly as Ichigo drifted through an encompassing sensation that was both warm and soothing against his very soul. 

'S-Shi? It doesn't hurt.' Ichigo said softly, frowning deeply as several drops splattered across his cheek and dazed chocolate brown eyes gazed upwards at golden eyes that were saturated in nothing but five centuries of loneliness, pain and a life without love. Warm tears were falling against his cheek in a steady plop, plop, plop of sorrow, those stoic features not once betraying the older being's thoughts to him as Shiro smiled softly when the orange haired Hunter cupped his palm against a pale cheek curiously. 'Of course it doesn't hurt, little Denka. It is not meant to hurt you. I'm leaving my soul with you, Ichigo. Look after him well, my heart has belonged to you since the first day I saw you and now you possess the essence of my power as well. When you wake three days from now, you can finally have your vengeance for your beloved mother's death. Aizen Sousuke will be in the east sector with his top Espada. For now, my most beloved. It is time you regained your true power.' 

'Awaken that which has been growing within you for twenty three years now, Kurosaki Ichigo.' 

~~~~ 

'Nemutte (3*), my sweet Ichigo. I'll probably not be able to see you like this again. I love you, little one.' Warmth, it was warm...so infinitely warm and comforting that Ichigo could feel his heart crying out in sheer bliss at the scorching heat that was encasing the entirety of his soul so completely. He was drifting aimlessly through an oblivion of darkness, chocolate brown eyes not once able to see the world around him, but Ichigo wasn't afraid. He had never been afraid of the darkness. There had been excruciating pain at some point, he could remember it well, and whispers in the depths of his mind that he couldn't quite understand yet. But it was all gone now. Replaced by an accepting warmth in his soul that was only filled with utter bliss and gentle comfort. Left behind in an existence that was completely detachment from reality; Ichigo was quickly becoming more aware of his dazed surroundings as his form was tethered to a world that was filled with overpowering scents, the ugly, distinguishable sounds that only the modern world can create and a slow rise of reiatsu that was spreading soothingly across the surface of his skin. 

'Live on, never look back and always stay as bright as you are now. A new age has finally dawned upon this dark world, Ichigo, and I'll trust you to look after it. I'm taking my leave, little Hunter King. Five hundred years in this cursed existence has been more than enough for me. My sanity has long since started its descent into the darkness and I've only managed to keep it back because I had you to protect. But that too, is no longer needed.' The gentle voice whispered again, leaving Ichigo to groan softly when he shifted upon a soft surface in search of the sweet rapture that the dark oblivion had cast across his form so irrevocably. There was definately a spread of warm sheets below him, the gentle weight of a warm comforter draped across his shoulders as his head was cradled in a several soft feather pillows...but none of that mattered to Ichigo. He felt sad, even when he couldn't explain it himself. He wasn't even sure who or what he was, where he was and why everything felt so unbearably heavy around him. But that voice alone, it had kept him company for a long time now...the only constant in the darkness that had offered him sanity and gentle reprieve.

'I'll meet you on the other side of the Rubicon (4*).' 

'Time to wake, Aruji. The time has come to face your darkness, Denka. Sleep is no longer an option.' A deep frown of confusion tugged at already furrowed brows; tanned fingertips digging distressing into silk sheets as an overwhelming push of reality abruptly entered Ichigo's spinning mind with a violent torrent. A pained gasp instantly rang out through the atmosphere, the young Vampire Hunter curling in a small ball to fight off the burning fire of need in the pit of his stomach as a racing heart thudded deafeningly within cotton filled ears. Ichigo was moaning softly in his rising distress, dazed eyes snapping open in surprise as the events from the last time he had seen Shiro became startlingly clear within his mind. A left hand, trembling and uncertain of itself, instantly came up to clutch at the black fabric that was settled across his heart. Slipping beneath the fabric of a tight, long-sleeved black shirt, Ichigo carefully felt the skin there for any indication that Shiro's blade had left behind a scar at its biting touch. But there was nothing there, just like Ichigo could not detect Shiro's presence anywhere close to him now. 

'S-shit!' Ichigo cursed irritably, his blurring vision finally clearing after several seconds before he came to recognize the Pureblood's apartment spread around him. The large panoramic window that displayed a beautiful view of Karakura's early night sky, was still there as several bright stars hung low in the fading dusk. There was not a single sign of the moon though, the entire horizon sure to become as black as the night in the next few minutes as Ichigo frowned deeply at the sight. The last night that he could remember, had been a waning moon. But now there was absolutely nothing. Three days, had he really missed three days since he had lost consciousness? Just what the hell was going on? Ichigo didn't understand it anymore, the world around him seemed so much brighter than before, alive in its intensity as his nose could pick up the subtle scent that he had noticed around Shiro for a long time now. But the older being wasn't there with him now, forcing Ichigo to stand on shaky legs as dazed eyes observed the reflection that flashed in the large window when he drew closer. 

The being present in the surface of the glass, staring back at him with widened eyes of shock, was not him. There was no way that it was him, Ichigo thought with rising panic. Hip length, no pitch black locks that were longer than that, tumbled down his back sensually to brush against the tops of his thighs where the long locks seemed to have a life of their own. Cascading teasingly against his arms and spine, Ichigo shook his head softly so that a thick lock of the same hair, tumbled in a messy array of bangs across his nose and feathered teasingly against pale cheeks. Deep, blood red eyes were gazing back at him; a colour Ichigo had never seen before as two pinpricks of white rested against a full bottom lip. Reaching curious fingertips towards the small fangs, Ichigo was completely startled when pitch black fingernails greeted his sight and he no longer possessed the tanned skin from before. It was pale, the colour of the full moon as petal pink lips parted abruptly in a ragging scream of shock. Fingertips were tugging distressingly at long pitch black locks, Ichigo's mind screaming at him that what he seeing had to be lie. Had Shiro forcibly turned him? Ichigo didn't want this, he didn't want―.

'You were not turned by force, Denka.' A soothing baritone spoke suddenly, gentle fingertips resting atop his head in consolation to where Ichigo had fallen to his knees in emotional distress. When Ichigo jerked away at the touch in fright; his hands reaching out in front of him to force a Quincy cross to fall from his sleeve in preparation to use his more unstable Hunter powers, the black haired Ichigo looked upwards to find an unfamiliar being hovering over him with concern. The male, Ichigo was sure it was male, was very tall. His entire frame draped in a pure white hooded cloak that dragged a good few meters behind him on the floor. It was kept closed by an intricate obi of gold and white string, a large bow tied at the base his spine before pale fingertips reached upwards to pull back the hood that concealed most of his features. Pitch black hair, much like his own now, only much longer, tumbled down a strong back to flutter evocatively around his form with a life its own. Lengthened fangs were also resting across blood red lips, golden eyes set upon a sea of black sclera, gazing at Ichigo fairly sadly before a reassuring smile tugged at those lips in a reflection to the smile Ichigo had seen cross Shiro's features not too long ago. 

'W-who are you? And w-what do you mean?' Ichigo asked in climbing panic and utter confusion. 'I've clearly been turned!' Ichigo yelled in anger. He was oddly forced to still his words though, when he felt strangely comforted by the tall being's presence. 

'My name is Mugetsu, Ichigo. Please calm yourself, Aruji. I will not harm you. My original Master entrusted your safety to me, so I am now a part of your soul, Denka. I promise you that you were not turned by force. Shiro merely awakened the part of your soul that has been sleeping inside of you for a long time. Have you never wondered who your father was?' The deep baritone asked with a little frown; but Ichigo hardly heard him. The first thing that crossed his mind was that Shiro had really done it. The white haired Pureblood had just given him his Zanpactō, but as the spirit's words became a little clearer to him through his initial panic, Ichigo shook his head in the negative to the puzzling question. He had never given much thought to his father, his mother had only told him that Isshin had been a good man but that couldn't stay beside them because he would place their lives in danger. But what did that have to do with anything? Ichigo was just about to ask when the black haired spirit held out his hand, helping Ichigo up from the floor before the older being once more pulled the white hood over his head so that golden eyes were concealed in shadow. 

'I suppose you wouldn't, your life has been stained with far too much sorrow for one so precious, little one. I'll stay by your side to protect you now, Ichigo. I am already a part of Zangetsu, so should you need me, just call my name. Shiro has already transferred all the information on how to wield me into your sword, so I will protect you when you call. My Master was right though, Denka. Your Pureblood form is absolutely beautiful. I'm glad that I can serve such a pure soul. I need to leave now, though. I'm using far too much of your reiatsu to keep myself materialized.' 

'Find Shiro, Ichigo, if you want your true answers. He's gone somewhere where I cannot sense him anymore, but hopefully you will be able to find him. He's probably gone and done something stupid again...' 

'Matte! I―.' Ichigo yelled out, seeking to call the white clad form back to him but he got no further than that. The clock on the wall, which Ichigo had not even noticed stopping, finally started to move again as Mugetsu vanished in a flash of black reiatsu and a new but all together welcoming warmth settled within Ichigo's soul. The black haired being, gazing dazedly at reflection in the window, stared as hard as he could for a long time but his form didn't change back. He still had black hair, his eyes were still coloured blood red as a pale fingertip trailed against the small fangs pressing against his bottom lip in thought. When Ichigo finally realized it wouldn't change, and that this was no dream that he would wake up from, he eventually forced himself to stand and make his towards where his Zanpactō's presence was the strongest.

Resting in the sword rack where he had left them, Ichigo curiously observed the smaller Zangetsu's hilt that seemed a little more defined than before. And the large black blade, now possessed a very long black chain attached to its hilt as it wrapped itself around the large sheathed form several times to keep out of the way. As Ichigo stumbled past the large bed though, still utterly out of it and getting used to the world around him, he noticed the neatly folded black hunter's cloak and a small white square paper that was laying upon something soft. When Ichigo lifted away the thick parchment, inked black in beautiful penmanship with his name on it, was the long white locks that Shiro had possessed. It was nearly bound, where Ichigo was sure the older being had cut it off at the nape of his neck before leaving it behind as a memento for his beloved. 

And damn it! Why did this feel like a final goodbye to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1* - Aruji – Master, the way that a Zanpactō refers to its master  
> 2* - Echt – Pureblood Quincies   
> 3* - Nemutte – Go to sleep   
> 5* - Rubicon – Is an expression that means ‘no return’. So when saying ‘I’ll meet you on the other side of the Rubicon’, it means that it is a place of no return where nothing is the same
> 
> Okay, I think that’s all my notes. I’m too tired to think of anything more. I know there are going to be a lot of questions and so on. You may ask them if you wish, I may not answer because I don’t like spoiling my plot but thank you for reading in any case. I really appreciate it. If you could leave me a little review, I’d be very happy. 
> 
> Other than that, I hope that you enjoyed and that I’ll see you again soon with another update. 
> 
> Ja Ne
> 
> Chocolate Carnival

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, it’s done! Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate it! If there are any questions don’t be afraid to ask, although I may not answer them in full. Also please remember this is only the prologue, just a little taste of what’s to come and what you can expect. Other than that, I hope you enjoyed and if you did...if you’d be so kind as to leave me a little review. I’d really apreciate that. 
> 
> Yours Always  
> Chocolate Carnival


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